EXT. UNIVERSITY GATE – DAY
The remedial program had two options:
Retake the exam with the same lesson coverage, or join the actual remedial classes during the semester break.
And of course, being the good student that I am—I chose...
The remedial exam!
For the first time, I believed in myself.
Well... mostly in Icy's teaching.
After that night when he told me to take the remedial, we had a mini war in my kitchen. I insisted on the exam. He wanted me to take the full class again.
But no way.
My vacation—my precious, three-week oasis—was non-negotiable.
FLASHBACK - INT. FIRE'S KITCHEN
"You were literally crying about how important this course is, and now you're picking vacation over it?" Ice scolded, arms crossed like a disapproving mother.
"Hear me OUT!" I stressed the last word to get his attention.
"Wait, hear me out!" I raised both hands like I was about to present a breakthrough invention.
"I'm confident I can pass—if! If I hadn't fallen asleep during that test, I would've probably aced it!"
…Okay. That last part was a bit dramatic.
I said it with every ounce of conviction I had. And I meant it—I was really confident I could pass.
The "ace it" part? Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration.
Then I realized—oops—it was kind of a double-edged sword.
I basically just declared, "I could've passed, but I chose to nap instead," which is not good.
I gave him an awkward, please-don't-yell smile.
Now, after the exam, the school was so quiet it almost felt haunted.
No more exam pressure.
I finally exhaled.
I'd answered a lot of questions I actually knew. It felt good.
But now… it was all up to the results.
If I failed this, I'd be doomed.
Not just because I'd have to retake the class—but because I'd be separated from Ice.
Sure, that might sound like a relief to some.
But no one else tolerates me the way he does.
Even if he constantly yells and lectures me, none of it ever leaves the kitchen.
In the room, there's always a lot of gossip—some good, some not so good.
And honestly, I think it would crush my motivation if I ever heard someone call me out for being a second-year student who still doesn't know basic terms.
Harsh, but fair.
Maybe Ice is not into gossip, true. With him
No gossip. No shaming.
Just… quiet help. Reluctant, grumpy help.
The kind I needed.
Why am I thinking about Ice right now?
I should call him.
I hop in the next bus then just as I sat in I dialed his number.
"Hello?"
His voice was calm but confused.
Oh no, he's in professional mode.
Cute.
"Is this… Icy?" I tried to disguise my voice. Total failure. He hung up.
Rude.
Of course, I called again.
"Ice, wait—wait! I won't prank you again!" I pleaded.
"Where did you get my number?"
"Why are you acting like I'm a stalker?!"
"Because you are."
"Hey! I'm too pretty to be a stalker. It's called being a secret admirer."
Beep beep.
Another hang-up.
"Ice! Don't hang up, I'm serious now!" I raised my voice—realizing too late I was still on the bus. The person next to me looked genuinely concerned. Sorry, stranger.
"I got it from the SSC directory!"
"That's for official use. Do you want me to write you up?"
"No, please! I won't do it again," I whispered, covering my mouth.
"What do you want?"
He sounded so done with me.
"Let's go on a date!"
I heard a splash—did he just spill something?
"Please, let me treat you to dinner! Just to celebrate finishing remedials!"
He coughed a few times before answering.
Is he sick?
"Did the results come out?"
"Not yet, bu—"
"Then talk to me when you actually pass."
Click.
…He didn't yell though, so that's something.
A win is a win.
Challenge accepted.
I walk straight to my apartment, shower to clear my mind with exhaustion and all the terms I memorized just for the test.
Sigh
I am very sure I answered most of it but I'm still nervous. I always remind myself that this is not sunshine and rainbows but I don't want to always look at it negatively, after all there are a lot of positive things to learn here.
I press the on button on my hair dryer, now sitting on the sofa, my heart pumping like a drum.
I sat in front of my laptop like a hawk waiting for prey.
It was already past 7 p.m., and I was starving. But no dinner yet.
If I pass, I'll treat Ice.
If I fail, I'll cry into my pillow.
Ding.
The sound of my fate—an email.
My score. My test paper. My life. I braised my self, putting the hair dryer on the side.
To make it dramatic, I dialed Ice at the same time.
"AAAHHH!"
A scream straight into his ear.
I imagined him recoiling, pulling the phone away.
I lean forward to the screen, double checking.
"Can you not scream into the mic?!" he snapped.
"Ice! I passed! Yahoo!!"
Silence.
"Let's goooo! Where do you wanna eat? My treat!" I was bouncing on my sofa, kicking my feet off almost kicking my laptop.
"Anywhere I can afford," I said proudly.
"No thanks. Just try to save more money," he said, like he was about to launch a financial advice channel.
I stop my victory actions just to cut him off. "Are you still at Sweet Dream right now?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Hold up. Don't move."
Then I hung up.